"What else is important to you?"

"Justice." I said it without thinking.

Elspeth raised a white brow at me.

Had I just opened a trap for myself? Given them a clue I didn't want them to have?

"Justice," Elspeth repeated slowly, her expression pensive.

"Curious," another Elder murmured.

The Eldrenne lifted her blind eyes again.

Suddenly I said, "Someone died here tonight. Aren't we all feeling the importance of justice?"

"Yes," the Eldrenne said. "Yes, we are." Something about the curve of her lips said she was on track with my thoughts. She wasn't going to be diverted from that course by any attempt of mine to link it to tonight's crime.

When my interview concluded, I was escorted back to the holding room. Drained and eager for a measure of sleep, I dozed off quickly. My napping filled the better part of an hour. It was enough to find unconsciousness, but not enough to stockpile energy or feel rested. I awoke to Lydia's voice.

"Contestants!" Lydia called from the doorway. "Witches! Join me in the Great Hall."

Climbing out of the cot was difficult. It made me feel a little better to see that I was not the only sluggish one. The rest of the group were moving slowly as well.

Holly stood with Lydia. Her scorpion's number had been the highest drawn, so hers had been the final interview.

"You are drained from a day full of testing and weary with worry over the needless death among us, but rise as the witches you are! Rise with strength, knowing that for what comes next, you will need it."

Her words inspired us and made us wary. We took our places, forming a line like good kindergartners. And, in childish fashion, Hunter stepped in behind me and whispered, "How confident are you about your business plan, Persephone?"

She obviously felt she'd aced the interview test and successfully impressed the buckles off the Elders' hats. Good for her. But rubbing my nose in it: bad for her. I was tired enough to be easily incensed.

Facing her, I scanned her up and down and said, "Business degree, check. Silver spoon, check. Massive ego, check. All great qualities for a high priestess, don't you agree? I mean, if they want the trophy-wife version of a leader, you're in. If they want someone who will do exactly what they are told because of misplaced loyalty to a politically motivated Elder whose ass you must have kissed, you're in. But what if they want someone who can guide the spiritual and magical development of seekers? That is the primary function of a high priestess, unless I'm mistaken. If that's what they're looking for, then your GPA, your family connections, and your look-at-me-I'm-upper-class makeover are irrelevant. And your get-out-of-my-way-I'm-coming-through attitude? It becomes a hindrance."

I turned away, relieved to find the line had surged ahead. I got to stride forward with purpose to catch up. In the hallway, Moore and Detrick stopped and watched us as we passed. I heard Lydia call out a reminder that the officers were not permitted in the Great Hall as we conducted the ceremony and testing. I still suspected the police officers' willingness to let us proceed had more to do with spellcraft than typical procedures.

When we arrived at the stairway to the Great Hall, I realized that Hunter had fallen to the back of the line.

The Elders were already seated on their thrones as we re-formed our east-west line before the dais. They must have ranked the interviews already. My stomach knotted hard enough to rival the heartache I had successfully been ignoring until that moment. Scolding myself harshly, I concentrated hard on what was about to happen. Best-case scenario: I had to prepare myself for being cut from this without having accomplished my goal of knocking Hunter from the running. Worst-case scenario: the Elders or Eldrenne read or detected my stain and my Lustrata-ness and meant for me to be Bindspoken.

The Eldrenne gestured to her left. "Desdemona."

The Elder with silver ankhs embroidered on her lapels and cuffs said, "We have chosen, indeed, those who will proceed." Her voice was shrill and a bit squeaky. She handed a scroll to Lydia, who broke the seal and turned to read.

"In alphabetical order, the five finalists are: Persephone Alcmedi…"

I blinked in surprise, but held on to the sigh that would release my tension. I didn't want Hunter to know I'd been worried.

Lydia went on. "Lehana Bosico. Hunter Hopewell. Amber Lantz. Maria Morrison. The runner-up is: Holly Price."

Beside me, a woman whose name was not called shut her eyes and sighed disappointedly. For the first time, I realized my participation was knocking out contestants who truly wanted the job. Someone removed from the running in this round might have dominated in the next one. Then again, if I had beat them out—how qualified were they to start with?

Lydia returned to the end of the dais.

"If your name was not called, please return now to the holding room. Mandy will take you to the secondary holding room where you can rest."

Five women stepped away from our line and retreated from the Great Hall. We who remained looked at each other and closed ranks a little. I smiled at Lehana, who stood to my left. She grinned back and grabbed my pale hand in her dark one, then reached to take Hunter's hand on her left. To my right was Maria with the broomstick skirt, and I slid my hand into hers and nodded. In turn, Maria took Amber's hand and she took Holly's.

I considered Holly; she'd made it through the second round. Surely her mother would be proud. Surely she was proud of herself. But as runner-up again…

The six of us faced the Elders and, I felt, tried to convey that we were ready for the next test.

Desdemona smiled broadly, showing she was missing her bicuspids. She scooted forward on her throne and her hands shook as she excitedly rubbed gnarled fingers together. She spoke in verse with her strange, high voice and sounded completely insane.

"We have seen you take a written test.

You have plans for the coven, but what comes next

Is my test and in it, we will discover

If you can think on your feet… and if you can govern."

She stopped there, cocked her head at us, and bit her lip. An odd mannerism. It made me wary.

Her arms shot out, extended to either side, palms open. I felt the static chill of power being called before me, felt it dancing from the dais as she said,

"Although we be a mourning choir

For the one who has expired

Know that all of thee are liars

But only one in guilt is mired.

And thus the contest we so desire

Shall continue as required

And next my test will transpire

I bid thee now enter, vampires!"

Power spiraled across the Great Hall. As she fisted her hands and jerked them close to her chest, the eastern and western double doors burst open. In the dark of each open entry stood a figure.

From the smell of decay riding the wind that gusted into the hall, Desdemona hadn't been lying. Vampires.

The Covenstead was protected, like most buildings, with the metaphysical barrier that kept out those with the curse of undeath. The soulless undead couldn't pass through unless invited in.

Desdemona had made the invitation.

My attention bounced back and forth, completely intent on the as-yet-unrecognizable figures in the doorway. Although obscured, their stature and wide shoulders showed both to be male.

Please don't be Menessos and Goliath.

The figures stepped from the shadows to the dim interior… and I was relieved to see both were unfamiliar. Of course, this could be even worse: they might sense the stain upon me and not have any qualms about revealing such information to one and all.